


4th Of July

by septicat



Category: Game Grumps, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Implied Relationships, Implied drinking, M/M, implied blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septicat/pseuds/septicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan's final entries in his personal journal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	4th Of July

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on a whim, and it's very very short. It was actually hand written first so that's probably why.  
> Sad times but I'm always a slut for bangiplier  
> enjoy  
> i love you all  
> xx

Arin came to me today with the plans for the weekend. Generally, I wasn’t big on 4th of July parties, especially after last year. I asked him who all was coming and he could tell how nervous I was to hear his answer. He assured me you wouldn’t be there.

“Only grumps.” He promised. I really didn’t have a reason not to go, except the fact that I think fireworks are fucking stupid. That wouldn’t really fly with them, though. So, I guess I’ve agreed to go. I pray that you won’t show up. Maybe Arin actually knew what he was talking about this time. He didn’t really seem too sure, though. Neither am I, honestly.

 

* * *

 

We’re heading out tomorrow morning for the weekend. I have to be honest, even if you won’t be there; I’m still not looking forward to it. Do they not remember last summer? I do. I don’t want to, but I do. I know I write in this stupid notebook so that I can try to get past all of this, but I’ve never really talked about what happened. Even writing it on private lines makes me uncomfortable and just as upset as the first night alone. I need to, though. There’s a huge chance I’m going to have to see you again tomorrow, and I guess I need to figure this out now.

I finally spoke up. I finally told you exactly how I felt. Arin had been nagging me for weeks. I told him you wouldn’t feel the same way, but he _insisted_. He knew, apparently.

And when I told you, I didn’t expect you to kiss me. I’d never even kissed a guy before. You kissed me under the fucking fireworks, and it was the best moment of my god damned life. I’d liked you for so long, Mark. So, so long. It really messed with me. I was finding myself, and you were happy to help all weekend. I didn’t expect it to end that soon, though. I really, really liked you. Then Sunday happened.

“I’m sorry, do you like…expect this to be a thing?” I could tell you sincerely felt bad. I felt humiliated, though. I could have melted into the fucking dirt under my feet.

“Look, Dan…” you had me out by the lake, alone, and I was so close to tears. “I was just really lonely, okay? It’s been tough since my girlfriend left…”

You made a lot of excuses. I thought I had made it very clear what I felt, and what I wanted. You tried to play it off as a miscommunication, when really, you just needed someone to get you off so you could _maybe_ feel something again.

And when you told me that this wasn’t really going to ever happen again, I went home and showered too many times, just so I couldn’t feel your fucking skin anymore. I gave up every bit of my fucking feelings for what? A weekend of stale, alcohol fueled kisses and meaningless blowjobs? Well, whatever. I hope you fucking got what you wanted. I’ve written to you in this stupid notebook at least once a week, sometimes more, just so I could fucking move on.

It’s been a whole god damn year, and here I fucking am, praying to a god I’m positive doesn’t exist, because I doubt I’ll be able to handle myself if you show up tomorrow. I’ve managed to avoid you for a whole year. I’m tired of this.

 

* * *

 

Arin’s a fucking liar.

You’re a fucking joke.

I’m not writing to you anymore. Hopefully you’ll actually read this when I give it to you, just so you can understand that I hate you.

You came here to apologize, except you decided to kill two birds with one stone, and you brought your new boyfriend to meet everyone, and when Suzy asked how long you had been together, hearing you say “almost a year” was the end for me.

He can fucking have you.

Happy 4th of July.

I’ll enjoy the fireworks alone.


End file.
